Vision slowly returns to me. Slowly. Slooooooooowwwwwwwwlyyyyyyyy. It's kind of annoying, waiting so long, but when I can see, it's pretty interesting.

I'm in a straightjacket, which is weird, but slightly cool. I've never been in one before. It's not as comfy as I thought it would be, more like wearing a cot. But I know better than to struggle-you only need to watch the End of Time arc once to learn that straightjackets aren't the end of the world. The end of time and all lesser existence, maybe, but who cares? That's happened at least three or four times in Doctor Who. I yawn before I can stop myself, although it's unlikely that I would've stopped myself anyway. My contacts are irritating me, as if I slept in them...oh. Let's see, woke up without haven consciously fallen asleep, in a strange room, and in a straightjacket. Duh.

Sitting across from me at the steel table I find myself pulled up to is a bald African American dude with an eyepatch. The one eye seems all the brighter and blazier, as if to make up for its missing brother. I swallowed to get the stale taste out of my mouth, but it didn't prove very effective. What was the last thing I ate? I'm pretty sure my palate's going to be feeling that for a while.

"Hi!" I greet cheerily, trying as valiantly as possible to replicate David Tennant's line in the Idiot Lantern episode. He sighs quietly, as if I'm annoying him. "And, um...who would you be?"

"I was just about to ask you the same," he rumbles. My smile vanishes-I had the feeling he was mad at me for some reason. "If you're pulling some innocent cover, I suggest you drop it now. We don't take well to illusionists here."

"I'll say!" crows another voice. A door slides open to my right, revealing a new dude in a t-shirt and jeans. He has dark hair and a flashy mustache, which I instantly adored. He has a bit of a furtive look about him, with bright black eyes and a deceptively emotionless expression. He points at me, his other hand occupied with what appeared to be potato chips.

"That's our guy?" he clarifies, cocking an eyebrow as he ran this development by the first dude. I raise both eyebrows at this.

"Girl, in case you haven't noticed," I replied carefully. "Oh, and by the way, hi! Love the mustache. I'd wave frantically, but I seem to have been denied control of my arms."

"That's our guy," replies Eyepatch, ignoring me. Even ruder than not waving at every person that enters the room! Who does this guy think he is? I almost don't want to be burdened with the information. I blink at him blankly.

"What did I do this time?" I grumble, mock scowling. "Oh no, let me guess-was I sleepwalking? I hope I didn't break the universe with a shovel again. Last time was pretty embarrassing!"

Now they're both looking at me weird. I don't know what I did wrong. The thought reminds me of Derpyhooves. I'm scatterbrained that way. Then I realize why the dark-haired guy looks so familiar to me. He looks just like…

...no, that's not possible. Is it?

"You know who you remind me of?" I ask, gesturing to mustache man with an obscure shoulder thrust. "It's kind of uncanny, but you look just like Tony Stark from the battle of-"

Tony stares at me for a moment, as if willing me to put the pieces together. My brain explodes and a huge grin busts out on my face simultaneously.

"No way."

"Way," replies Tony.

"Director Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D.," introduces chrome dome. "In case you're wondering why you were picked up, we got your call. About Loki."

It takes me a moment to contemplate what he's saying, partially because I had a hyperactive breakdown that lasted about ten seconds.

"The Tony Stark!?" I blurt, my smile so big it would give Pinkie Pie a joyful heart attack. The words tumble out of my mouth like a litter of puppies out of a pen. "As in, Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark? That is so cool! Are the rest here? Hawkeye, Black Widow, Banner, Rogers, the works? Ooh, what about Thor? Wait, did you ask me something?"

"I did," growls Fury. At his scowl, I attempt to calm down, an attempt that died stillborn.

"You mean my call to my friend Mike the other day?" Fury cocks an eyebrow at me, an invitation to continue in my book. "Yeeeah, I don't think I mentioned Loki. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know my Nordic mythology, but I don't, like, know him. If I did, then that's where I'd get my improv lessons."

"You didn't mention him, huh?" challenged Fury. I shrank a little. "Tony, play back the call."

Grunting affirmation through a mouthful of potato chips, Tony pulls out a mobile phone and does something techno-wizardy with the intercom speaker on the table next to Fury. My phone call from yesterday plays back, only rendering my speech and not Mike's.

"Heyaaall!...yeah, are you coming to Thor 2 today? ...aw, that's too bad. That's okay, I'll *kk*ill you in. Hm?...oh, okay. Sorry, you know how I am about spoilers...right? That's the one thing you can trust me with! I've got the korkiest brain since Loki put on his extra-tricky-hat! ...yes, I stole that from How to Train your Dragon. Cowell is the best, am I right? ...you still haven't read that!? Geez...don't even start! May magic be my shield…all right, I'll meet you at the helic-what?...oh yeah. Shows how much of an airhead I am. Might as well be an empty cube...'kay, bye."

Nick rubbed his temples, swearing under his breath.

"So you mean to tell me," began Tony, rolling his eyes at me as if it's all my fault. "that we picked up eight keywords from an innocent conversation between you and your buddy Mitch?"

"Mike."

"Whatever."

"I apologize for the inconvenience," said Fury, letting out a deep breath and clenching his fists. "You may go now."

"Oh no you don't, you tricksy hobbit!" I retorted. "I'm not that dumb. Not to say I'm not dumb, because I am certifiably dumb. But anyway, I know that you're not going to just let me go with vital information!"

"Such as, 'I met Iron Man! What now!?'" imitated Tony. I pouted at him.

"She's right, Tony," relented Fury. "She knows that we really exist, for one thing. How do we fix that?"

"I guess I can't go anywhere with such devastating intel," I fake sigh, casting my eyes to the ceiling. "Imagine if I was to move outside the country. What if I was interrogated by Russian terrorists? Or by Chitauri? Odin forbid that should happen!"

Tony and Fury were silent for a while.

"You're not going anywhere."